The Price of Slavery
by GI Jenn
Summary: When Hermione wakes up in an unfamiliar dungeon, what will she do? And what happens when the Dark Sides craves her? no lovin' yet, but R eventually. Please read and review!
1. Prologue

a/n: well, it's only been over a year since i've written anything, and I thought that maybe i'd start up again.   
do tell me your honest opinion! if you want to flame me, go for it! they will be used to roast some yummy marshmallows!!!  
  
  
disclaimer: the talented J.K. Rowling owns everything. damn. i want draco.  
  
  
  
  
THE PRICE OF LOYALTY  
  
  
  
"Get out of here!" Harry yelled to the rest of the aurors. The Death Eaters were approaching fast to the   
  
small cottage. Hermione was frantically trying to exit the miniscule window, only to find it locked tight.   
  
Ron and Lavender had already left due to Harry barking orders at them. All four of them having completed their auror   
  
training the previous week, they had retreated to a small cottage in a wooded forest area a couple of hours   
  
outside London. They had expected to relax for a few days. Needless to say, this was not relaxing. There   
  
was so many of them, it ws like a swarm of angry hornets. Except angry hornets weren't this scary. Harry   
  
had decided that there were just too many. And that they should just do the smart thing, and run. Except   
  
for Hermione. Unable to locate an exit, she huddled in the tiny closet, not making a sound. As the cottage   
  
door was blasted in. She could hear their muffled footsteps and harsh voices. A gruff voice commented   
  
that they should search the place before they torched it. Hermione felt an uncertain dread fill her heart.   
  
What would they do once they found her? Torture her? Rape her? Kill her? Most likely the latter she   
  
deduced. She drew her wand as she heard a person walking towards the closet, hoping she could stun  
  
whoever it was, knowing full well that it was useless. For four fully trained aurors to run, she realized that   
  
there had to be hundereds of them. As the door flew open and bright light shone on her prone form,   
  
revealing her to them, she heard one word spoken by a low voice-  
  
"Stupefy".  
  
  
  
He slowly approached the cell where the girl was being kept. Nobody knew her exact identity, but   
  
names had come up. Probably a random witch at the wrong place at the wrong time. She hadn't awoke  
  
yet, which wasn't surprising. After he had stunned her, one of his worthless minions had dropped her on   
  
her head when he was carrying her. Stupid oafs. He noticed her stirring and went into the cell. She   
  
instictively reached into the wand-pocket in her robe, he noticed. Too bad he already had it. He drew it out  
  
of his pocket.  
  
"Looking for this?" he asked. She replied by lunging at him, only to be restrained by his remarkably strong  
  
hands. He noticed a small scar on her left cheekone, in the shape of a crescent moon. He ran his thumb  
  
roughly over it. He had made that scar himself, many years ago. Too bad too, he thought, to ruin such a   
  
pristine face. He had lightly carved it on her face with a knife, forever etching it into her memory , and his   
  
as well. There was only one person this could be. His worst enemy. One of the mystical three that had   
  
killed his master, Lord Voldemort back on the same fatefull day he had given her that scar. It was none   
  
other than Hermione Granger.  
  
  
  
"Bastard!" she spat as she glared into this cruel man's eyes. His eyes were so vey familiar. They looked   
  
like pools of mercury. As he flipped back the hood of his death eater robe, silvery-blonde hair tumbled into  
  
his eyes. Hermoine gasped.  
  
Malfoy.  
  
  
  
She remembered. He had helped them against Voldemort. Or so they had thought. Until the  
  
day that the Dark Lord had launched an attack on Hogwarts during their seventh year. Draco had   
  
turned his back on them. And scarred her face.  
  
"Lying fucking---" She was cut off as a gloved hand whipped across her face.  
  
"That should teach you mudblood. And lying is the only thing that separates us from the beasts of   
  
the wild."  
  
Hermione mumbled something that Draco couldn't hear.  
  
"What did you say bitch?" he snarled.  
  
"What precisely are you going to do with me?" she said with a lump of fear in her throat.  
  
He smiled as big as a cheshire cat, and just every bit as evil. With a malavolent glint in his eye, he   
  
said in his smooth-as-silk voice, "you'll soon find out".  
  
And with a swish of midnight black cloak, he turned and exited the cell.  
  
  
  
  
did you like? please review!!! 


	2. The Deal

a/n: well, I finally decided to get my ass in gear and   
write a second chapter! I just went to the doctor   
today, and I have a respiratory infection, so I'll   
have plenty of time to write! Oh, and thank you to all of my reviewers!   
I hope to personally thank you all in the next chappie!   
Love and Scantily Clad Malfoys,  
GI Jenn  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, the wonderful and talented   
JKR does. But I own my own originality. And I   
wish I owned Draco. Who doesn't?!?!?!  
  
  
  
THE PRICE OF SLAVERY  
"The Deal"  
  
Hermione shivered. Cold air swept around her, enclosing her   
in a comfortless blanket of numbness.   
"If only I had been quicker," she quietly spoke to no one in   
particular, "then maybe I wouldn't be here in   
this drafty dungeon with none other than that traitor of a   
Malfoy." She thought she heard footsteps, and   
silenced herself. "Just a false alarm," she thought, "but   
what am I going to do when it isn't? My wand was   
taken by that bastard." She looked herself over- Short, average,   
under-nourished, weaponless, and   
completely helpless. True, she could make grown men fall to   
their knees, but she highly doubted that it would work in   
this situation. Again she heard footsteps approaching,   
positive that this time they were the real   
thing. And she was very correct in that assumption.   
She glanced towards the opening of her cell just in   
time to see silvery moonlight reflect off of creamy white skin.   
"Hello Granger." He said as he bowed low, "we must observe the   
niceties now mustn't we? After all, I   
must appease My Lord by treating you like the treasure you are."   
Through all of this, his signature smirk   
never left his face, especially during the "my lord" spiel.  
Mustering all of her viable strength, she managed to keep a civil tone.   
"Why exactly am I such a treasure to You-Know-Who?" she queried.  
"From now on, you must refer to Our Lord by addressing him in such   
a manner." He spoke with very much   
emphasis on the "our".  
"What do you mean OUR Lord? He has never been nor will ever be my lord!"   
she said with fervor.  
"He has been your lord for quite a while now. Ever since I gave you that beautiful scar my dear."  
The pure disbelief in her eyes was evident to him and he explained further.  
"That was my job that day. To do the task that would one day destroy the Terrific Trio, and ultimately be   
the demise of Wonder boy Potter. And quite an easy task it was too,   
my dear. I was to take a special   
dagger from the Dark Lord himself, and pierce your skin with it. Quite ingenious if I do say so myself. It   
would allow him to be a small part of you, to connect with you.   
So, unbeknownst to you, you've been   
sending confidential information to us for some time now.  
And also by doing the honor myself, I gained a   
small gift. A smart and beautiful, even if unwilling wife." He paused and flashed a blinding grin, "Namely, you."  
  
Hermione was in one word, shocked. She had found out in five minutes   
what had taken precise planning to   
execute. She was an unwilling mole to her friends. She had helped the   
thing she feared most. The Dark   
Side. And she found out that in reward for this horrible deed, she had   
been promised in marriage to her   
worst enemy, a fate worse than death.   
She would be his wife. Legal and Binding. For better or for worse.   
'Til death do them part. She was to be   
his personal slave. For it 'twas the price of her foolishness.  
  
  
  
  
Dun dun duuuuuuuuun! Ominous creepy music. Well, I'll write again soon I hope! Please don't read any   
of my other material. Except for my Original Poem, "Loving You". That's ok. Well, give me ideas   
people! I know it's not R yet, but I'm setting up the plot! Well, my meds are making me sleepy.   
Nighty night, and pleasant Draco dreams. ~GI Jenn 


	3. Branded

I'm baaaaaack! Aha! I am here to MAKE you listen to Draco.wait, if you're here, I'm pretty sure I don't have to MAKE you. Anyway, third chapter. I'm sorry they're so short, but I have some major problem writing huge stories in a matter of days, especially when people are bugging me to GET A NEW CHAPTER UP! So, I suggest if you want longer chapters, you heed my warning that they are going to be posted at longer intervals! Anyway.  
  
Disclaimer: Joanne Kathleen Rowling owns it all. Except for my plot, and my cute, fuzzy plot bunnies.  
  
THE PRICE OF SLAVERY BRANDED  
  
Groggily, Hermione opened her eyes. Pure, unadulterated sunlight peeked through a small window about 20 feet above her. "I must be in a tower. But certainly not in a dungeon because I wouldn't be getting any sunlight up." She was talking aloud to herself when she noticed a cloaked figure sitting in a chair very near her own personal hell- hole. Who else could it be except for Malfoy? "Good morning." He said lifting the hood of off his chiseled face; silvery- blonde wisps fell forward, covering his forehead and eyes. "It's morning, but I don't see anything good about it." She retorted. "I'm here aren't I?" he cockily shot back at her. She denied him the pleasure of a response and folded her arms across her ample chest. She turned slowly around, and retreated to a corner of the cell, and sat in a small chair that had not been there before. "Today," he started, "you will be relocated to new quarters. Something, more.how do I say it.suitable to your new rank. You will come with me now." And with that, the cell bars dissipated into nothingness. "And if I refuse?" "This. Crucio." Hermione felt as though white-hot sword blades were piercing her every being, were prodding into her innermost parts. She writhed in pain and screamed as if there was no tomorrow. She couldn't see straight ahead, let alone remember where she was. And as suddenly as the pain started, it stopped. "So, are you coming or not?" Draco said with such maliciousness that she knew better than to refuse. She nodded slowly, feeling every aching joint burn with pain from the spell. "Where am I?" She asked sounding slightly frightened. "If I told you that, I'd have to kill you." Hermione almost laughed at such a cliché, but thought better of it. She knew that Malfoys did NOT make idle threats. He had said it with such seriousness that she didn't doubt that he would pull his wand on her. "As long as you're coming," he began to say, "you will meet my father." Hermione's knees started quivering like mint jelly. The last time she had seen Lucius Malfoy, he had been torturing Neville. Last she heard, they had to put poor Neville in with his parents in St. Mungo's. As they turned and went up another staircase, she couldn't help but be amazed at the sheer size of the place. Not quite as big as Hogwarts, she decided, but definitely bigger than all other places she had ever seen. As she looked at the many paintings and pictures on the walls, she also deducted that it was a house. One painting caught her eye. It was a very cute little girl, with long white-blonde curls, who was frantically tugging at the collar of a VERY expensive looking black velvet robe. Hermione, being as nervous as she was, decided to talk. "Sooo.who's the adorable little girl in the painting?" she asked with utmost curiosity. Draco turned to face her with an evil face that could kill. "That," he said, "is ME." He put a lot of emphasis on the "me" part. Hermione almost collapsed in a fit of giggles. She had honestly thought it was a girl. Yet, it was Draco Malfoy, looking impossibly girly and obviously peeved that she had brought that up. She remembered Draco at Hogwarts, being the short, petite, slicked-back hair arse he was. He had grown considerably in the summer between sixth and seventh year. He had grown a good foot, and added some toning to his physique. Not that he was bad to look at she mused. They reached a pair of grand looking oak doors, at least 15 feet tall and quite wide also. Draco knocked politely and turned to Hermione. "You do or say anything to embarrass me, you will live to regret it." The icy tones in his voice came through perfectly clear. She nodded shakily. She hadn't eaten in a few days, and felt very queasy. "Enter" said a voice from within the cavernous room. Draco grabbed Hermione's arm and roughly jerked her into the room. "Hello my dear. You don't know how I've wanted to meet you." A tall backed leather chair spun around to reveal Lucius Malfoy. Every bit as refined as his son, he gracefully stood up and walked over to them. He bowed low and took Hermione's hand gently into his own. He lowered his lips to it, just barely brushing it. "Enchante, mademoiselle." He paused, "Draco," his tone suddenly more serious, "can I rest assured that you have told this delectable young woman of the plan?" Draco's eyes veered towards the floor. "I thought she should meet you first." He said with uncertainty. "Very well," Lucius continued, "you will go and execute it NOW." He practically screamed the last word. Draco must have gotten the hint, because he said his, "yes fathers" and drug Hermione out of the room. He continued walking in this fashion, with poor Hermione following like a tethered puppy, for quite a ways. He reached a door. He drew a key from his robe pocket and stuck in the door. He then swung it open for Hermione to see. It was beautiful, and unlike anything Hermione had ever seen. Burgundy velvet was, well, everywhere, in the bedding, the draperies, and the chairs. The walls were a complementary shade of taupe. "This is your room," Draco stated, and then continued, "see that door over there? It connects to the bathroom, which, coincidentally, connects to my room. Gee, I wonder how THAT worked out." He looked at Hermione with something she recognized in his eyes. Lust. She realized that she couldn't probably escape, even if she had her wand. She had by now figured out that this was Malfoy Manor, and there were probably hundreds, if not thousands of protection wards around it, just waiting to chop her into itty-bitty bite size pieces. Draco was advancing on her slowly. She backed up, until her legs hit something solid. The bed. He shoved her back onto the bed and quickly pinned her arms down, as well as her kicking legs. "This is the plan. You stay really quiet and still for five minutes, OK? I admit, this is going to hurt quite a bit, but, if you scream, I'm afraid you're going to have to be punished. Obedience is a virtue Granger." And with that, he tore a hole in her robe, just by her left breast, right over her heart. He drew his wand, and pointed it at the bare skin. "Serpentia Obeica" A burning sensation Hermione couldn't control began to rack her body in spasms. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't. Draco put his wand away, leaned over the spot where he had put his wand, and kissed it. So lightly that she thought she imagined it. "If I want you to do or say something, and you don't, do you know what will happen?" he asked. She had an idea, but decided not to voice it, and nodded "no" instead. "Do you remember what happened back in your cell? Does Crucio bring back that memory? Judging by the fear in your eyes, I'll guess it does. If you do not obey me. Pain of that sort will rack your body, until you complete the task I told you to do. Also, if I want you to come to me, you will feel a sharp prick right there." He finished on there by lightly tracing his slender soft finger over the bare spot on her breast. "Dinner is in three hours. You will find suitable clothing in the closet over there. I will come to pick you up. Do not be late. Malfoys do not tolerate lateness. Oh, our marriage is set for two weeks from this Sunday. I hope that does not inconvenience you?" The malicious twinkle in his eyes matched his cruel jesting. "And one more thing Granger." And with that, he quickly drew her up into an earth-shattering kiss.  
  
  
  
Oooooh..see, it was longer! And to believe I wrote this in appx. Two hours. Good job to me! Give me ideas , maybe I'll use them! And also read my original poetry. Some of the formatting got screwed when I uploaded it, so it's kind of off in a couple of them. Hugs, Hot Chocolate and Dead Sexy Malfoys, GI Jenn 


	4. Realization Hits

Aaaaaaand we're back in five.four.three.two.Hello everyone once again! My review number is a little disappointing! I mean, the first d/hr story I wrote was super small, and very, VERY bad. And I got 50 reviews in four chapters. So this is very disappointing to me. Nevertheless, I will continue this story in its entirety, just to please the FEW fans I have. Without further ranting, here is chapter four.  
  
THE PRICE OF SLAVERY REALIZATION HITS  
  
Draco's weight on top of Hermione was well.nice. She hadn't been this close to a guy for a long time. Even so, this was Draco Malfoy. The traitor and soon to be her.husband. She could barely enough think it, let alone say it. She could feel his warm tongue trying to probe her lips open, but she denied him access, and instead, rewarded him by biting his lower lip sharply. The coppery taste of blood soon filled her mouth, as well as his. He drew back quickly and gave her an icy cold glare.  
  
"You'd better get used to it, Hermione, because a lot more is going to happen than that. I mean, you being my fiancée and all." He had strained to say "Hermione" instead of "Granger", and it was noticeable. "Remember, dinner. You will be there." He turned sharply on his heels, and stomped out of the room. Hermione almost collapsed in tears, except for the fact that she noticed a mirror opposite the bed. She rushed over to the mirror, and checked the spot where he had muttered that incantation. As she peered at her reflection, and slowly uncovered the spot, a gasp escaped her throat as a tiny green and black snake was revealed on her skin, which seemed to shimmer unnaturally.  
  
"Well of course it's a snake, stupid. What else would it be? Oh Gods, I'm talking aloud again. Greeeat. Now I'm going to be Mrs. Malfoy AND completely nutters." She still had three hours until dinner, which she decided could be used for a quick nap. She crawled under the silken sheets, and quickly nodded off.  
  
".Miss. Miss. MISS!" Hermione jumped and uttered words she couldn't even begin to wonder where they came from. She turned to see a young girl of about 13 peering at her with shining amber eyes.  
  
"Young Sir sent me up here to make sure you get properly dressed and ready for dinner." She moved over to the closet, and opened the doors. "Come over here. It's OK, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just a lowly maid. Actually, I'm going to be your maid from now on. My name is Angela, and that's all you need to know. Anytime you want me or need me, just call my name, and I'll be here in a flash." She said this so fast that Hermione was amazed, this Angela girl was certainly a chatterbox.  
  
"Well," she started up again, "you look like you would do well in a dark red, or maybe a wine." She pulled beautiful silk and velvet robes from the huge closet. "Try these on." Hermione felt a little embarrassed about changing in front of the girl, but tried not to show it. She slowly changed into the blood red silk robes. She turned once again to gaze upon the mirror. She looked, well, radiant. The robes clung in all the right places, and suited her complexion so well that she wouldn't need any makeup. They showed her voluptuous curves so much that she blushed at the thought of him looking at her in this. She slowly turned, looking at herself from every angle.  
  
"What do you think Angela?" she queried.  
  
"I think you look beautiful. And so will Young Sir. It is time to go now. Young Sir will be along in a few minutes. When you return later, I will draw a bath if you wish."  
  
"That, would be lovely. Thank you." A faint rapping noise came from the doors; it could be only one thing.  
  
It was time for the fateful dinner.  
Hermione slowly opened the door just a crack. Sure enough, he was standing there in full Malfoy regalia, waiting to escort her to dinner. She gracefully tried to walk to him by exiting the tiny crack in the door, yet her plan failed when she caught her shoe on the lower than usual hem on her robe. She stumbled, and would have fallen in a very unladylike fashion, except for one pair of nicely toned arms happened to catch her just in time.  
  
"Couldn't wait to get in my arms again, could you?" And with that, he flashed his most dashing smile, one that would make the girls at Hogwarts worship the ground he had trodden on. Hermione had to admit it was damn sexy. But this was strictly a business relationship. Or at least that's what she wanted it to be. Oh well. Without noticing how far they had walked, Hermione soon realized that they were about to walk into a group of men. We must be here, she thought and then she looked around. There were so many people here. She hadn't really expected this. Or anything quite like this for that matter. A crystal bell was sounded signaling the start of the feast. As the many guests took their respective seats, she noticed a small tag with her name on it next to the one with "Draco Malfoy". She sat down, and as soon as she had, she noticed who was sitting in the "guest-of-honor" seat and the end of the long table. Voldemort.  
Hahahaha! CLIFFHANGER! Of course you want to know what happens next, so you'll give me PLENTY of reviews ***hint hint hint***, and tell me what you think! Oh, and sorry if chapter 5 takes a while to put up, I haven't even started it yet! You know, the usual, Honors English, US History, Pre- Calculus, French, and the lead in the play I'm in. Not to mention dance practice and suicidal friends. Skol, GI Jenn (and for those of you that DON'T know what "skol" means, it means "cheers" in Danish) 


	5. Recognition

**The Price of Slavery**

Chapter 5: Recognition

Rating: R (Or "M" as has stupidly made it…)

Ships: D/Hr…possibly more later.

Disclaimer: I don't own squat. I am but a poor college student. This story in no way is affiliated with JKR, Warner Brothers, Scholastic, or any book, motion picture, media company, or media personality. I own nothing except the crappy plot.

Adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She just couldn't believe it. He was dead. She had seen his demise with her own eyes. There was no fucking way. Well, there were many ways, especially for a wizard as powerful as Voldemort, but accepting the fact that he was still alive and kicking was just too much for Hermione. Struggling to regain her breath, she noticed that the speeches and niceties had been observed and dinner was now in progress. She also had noticed that some of the other women in the room were excusing themselves to the powder room, and figuring that it was her only means of some personal time at the moment, gave her excuses to Draco, and made her way to the ladies' room.

Draco had enjoyed seeing her squirm in her seat, trying to remain calm during the whole speech. It gave him a feeling of power to have control over his emotions, to be above weak creatures such as her, to be able to know what such extreme power could bring.

He turned to Blaise Zabini next to him, and began to flirt with her in the way he had been doing so for so many years. They were old friends, brought up in the same fashion, and had even become lovers at one point. But now all that remained was a companionship, the kind that comes from knowing every inch, inside and out, of the other person.   
Blaise knew everything about Draco.

Hermione panted as she raced as gracefully as she could to the ladies room. She flung the door open, causing some of the other women to huff in indignation at her rudeness. She finally reached the back, and shut the door to the stall. Sitting on the lid of the toilet, the world spun around her, a blur of colors, smells and sounds. All she knew was that Voldemort was dead. Yes, dead. And yet he had just toasted her engagement-with much exuberance, one might add. Engagement? Gods, how was she going to get out of this one? Hermione groaned at her own stupidity.

"How did I ever, ever in my life get myself in such a sticky situation?" she muttered to herself.

"With lots of sugary sweet sympathy," retorted a voice from the other side of the door. The door swung open, and it revealed to Hermione a flash of red hair and navy cloth. As she glanced up at the face, a small light of recognition went on in her brain.

"Zabini…Blaise Zabini?" she inquired.

"The one and only. But now is not the time for reintroductions. Come with me." As Hermione had learned in the past few days, it was better to go along willingly than to fight and make life hell. Blaise grabbed her small hand in her own, graceful ones. Hermione was dragged along for what seemed like an hour.

When Blaise suddenly deemed that they had arrived at their final destination, they abruptly stopped. Blaise gave a quick glance over both shoulders, opened the door silently, and beckoned Hermione to come with her.

"Lumos." The light was so shiningly bright that Hermione had to squint at the glare.

"Where am I?"

a/n: Sorry that this took over a year! I've been busy (I know, excuses, excuses…) But thanks to a few discerning people who kept IMing me (THANK YOU!) I got my rear in gear and busted out a quick chappie. Any ideas, comments, questions, concerns, or fluffy little plot bunnies, feel free to email me at or catch me on AIM at gijenn2331. or you could post a comment on my LJ at http: 


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